


Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright

by Rei



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rei/pseuds/Rei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler is pretty sure they're not supposed to even <i>talk</i> to each other without their lawyers present. But seriously? These people have <i>issues</i>. <br/>Or - the fic where Mark and Eduardo are emoting all over the place and Tyler feels reduced to the role of the outrageously good-looking sidekick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright

**Author's Note:**

> Usually I'm not the biggest fan of the Winklevii. But somehow Tyler was a lot of fun to write and I really hope I didn't turn him into a total idiot. Also this was not beta-read.

I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name  
Like a fool at the top of my lungs  
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright  
But it's never enough  
 **Jason Walker:** _"Echo"_

 

“Shit!” Tyler curses and stops mid-step, and then he curses some more. 

Divya stops and Cameron turns around to throw him a questioning glance. They're already a few steps ahead of him. Tyler runs a hand through his perfectly messed up hair. “I…shit. It’s okay. You guys go ahead. I’ll meet you at _Giovanni’s_.”

"What…?"

" I forgot my cell upstairs" he admits, frustrated. 

Cameron shakes his head exasperatedly, but it’s a fond, little gesture, maybe because he knows Tyler can’t really help it. He keeps forgetting stuff when he’s angry and right now, he’s more than angry.   
Sitting there in the depositions room listening to Mark Zuckerberg being an asshole and a condescending prick and not being able to throttle him (repeatedly), qualifies for a really shitty day. Not to mention his little friend, Tyler thinks while he's sprinting up the stairs, taking three steps at once. Or well, his _not anymore_ -friend, who kept _lying_ for him. Maybe Zuckerberg paid him. Yes, he probably bribed everybody and their fucking dog to lie for him, the little shit. 

So Tyler is not a happy camper when he comes back to the room that he expected to be empty and finds out the one person left is Mark Zuckerberg of all people.   
Great. 

Tyler stops and hovers indecisively in the doorway.   
He doesn’t know if they’re even allowed to talk to each other during the whole thing, especially when no lawyers are present. Maybe they aren't. He should’ve asked Cameron; Cameron always knows this stuff. At least Tyler’s pretty sure though that he’s not allowed to hit Mark, no matter how tempting it is. 

He clears his throat and acknowledges Zuckerberg with a short nod. But maybe he shouldn’t have bothered; Zuckerberg completely ignores him anyway. He’s still sitting at the table and is busy shoving his stuff into a small bag. He doesn't even raise his head.   
Fine. Good for him. Even better for Tyler.   
Prick. 

It’s probably better that Mark doesn’t try to talk to him, because this would seriously make Tyler reconsider not hitting him. Everything that comes out of the guy’s mouth is an insult. 

Luckily he finds his cell pretty fast and he’s already about to leave, when it happens.   
Like all of the sudden. No warning.   
One second Zuckerberg is about to hoist his bag over his shoulder and stands up, and the next second Tyler hears a muffled sound of something hitting the ground. He jerks around.   
The bag lies on the ground, right next to Mark’s unmoving figure.   
Tyler blinks, surprised and his body decides to move almost on its own volition.   
Oh… _shit._

He kneels down next to him. Mark’s eyes are closed and his body is limp as if he's just asleep, except he looks…lifeless.   
Shit. Shit. Shit.   
Then and there Tyler panics a little. 

His first thought is, funny enough – _but I didn’t even touch him!_   
Oh great. This is great. Now people are going to think he killed Zuckerberg. 

He barely stops himself from shaking Mark, because that can’t be good. Instead he just reaches for his throat to try and search for a pulse. 

He stops midway, somewhat awkwardly, because ugh, _he is tiny_. 

Until now Tyler has been mostly angry and annoyed with Mark Zuckerberg and in his head Mark is firmly established as an annoying prick and a lying, stealing cheating bastard. But right now he’s just an unconscious guy, pale and still and slender and…well, tiny.   
Okay, everybody is small compared to Tyler, except for Cameron which is one of the many reasons why he loves having him around. That and Cam stopping him from beating people up on a regular basis which is good, too. 

But Mark Zuckerberg is small compared to a lot of people, even compared to average sized guys, which makes him look positively baby kitten-sized next to Tyler. (Or, you know, something equally small and with sharp teeth.) Even Tyler's hand looks huge next to his pale white throat, as if he could snap his neck like twig without even trying.

In his more aggressive dreams Tyler has repeatedly kept bashing Mark’s head in, but right now, he’s kind of afraid to even touch him, because he looks so…fragile. Easily breakable. 

“What are you…? _Mark!_ ” somebody shouts. And then: “Get away from him!” which has him raising an amused eyebrow. Angry hands start pushing at his shoulder, but Tyler is 6'5, 220, and is not easily moveable and so he doesn’t even budge. 

It’s the other kid, he realizes somewhat surprised, the _not anymore_ -friend. The one who’s also suing Mark, not for being a thief, but for being a shitty best friend or…well, something. At least that’s what Tyler gathered from everything he heard. Saverin. That’s his name. Eduardo Saverin. 

Eventually Eduardo seems to realize that he isn’t able to manhandle Tyler, so he stops pushing at him and falls onto his knees next to Mark. 

“Mark!” His voice is high and panicked. When he raises his head, his eyes blaze angrily and his hands clutch at Marks sweatshirt protectively. “What did you do to him?!”

“Hey", Tyler protests, affronted. "Listen pal, I didn’t do anything!”

“If you've hurt him, I’ll…”

”He just keeled over okay?” Tyler frowns at him. Great. That's…just great. Exactly what he doesn't need right now. He can already see the headlines. ' _Zuckerberg had it coming! Plaintiff kills accused during lawsuit - accident or intent?!_ ' “I didn’t even look at him.”

He isn’t sure if Eduardo believes him, but at least he stops starring at him as if he’s a Nazi about to kick a puppy (oh for the love of…) and returns his worried gaze to his friend. _Former_ best friend. Whom he’s suing.   
Tyler shakes his head, because seriously. These people have _issues._

“Look, he’s breathing just fine”, Tyler feels obliged to add. He doesn’t need anybody, least of all Eduardo Saverin, claiming the Winklevoss’ tried to kill Mark. But Eduardo is not even listening to him. 

“Mark. Mark, wake up!” Eduardo’s voice is soft and gentle now, a harsh contrast to the angry hiss he threw at Tyler. His fingers ghosts over Mark’s face and his neck as if he’s searching for something, some confirmation that Mark is going to be all right.   
“Christ.” He sounds desperate. "Maybe we should call an ambulance.” 

“It’s probably just dehydration”, Tyler guesses. (What? He’s an _athlete_. He knows this stuff.) “Or malnutrition. He looks as if he’s not eating a lot.” 

Mark is a skinny little guy, and now he seems to be even skinnier than he was back then in Harvard. He looks worn-down, Tyler notices, now that he _really_ looks at him for the first time. His face looks hollow and the skin under his eyes is bruised and dark as if he’s not really eating or sleeping a lot or doing anything except well … being annoying. And getting sued by people. Which can’t be a lot of fun, now Tyler thinks about it, but he had it coming, okay? He absolutely refuses to feel bad for the little shit. 

“Maybe. He never remembered…I always had to…” Eduardo says and it sounds choked and unhappy. He looks as if somebody died, which might be a _little bit_ overdramatic. But Tyler has already suspected this guy is a drama queen. 

"What were you even doing here?" Eduardo sounds suspicious again, sharp and angry, which is funny, because he looks like a doe that thinks it's a pit bull. 

"I came here with the sole intention to find Zuckerberg alone, so I could throttle him." Okay, judging from the angry look Eduardo throws at him it's too soon to joke about it. Tyler rolls his eyes. "I forgot my cell, okay? What are _you_ doing here? This isn't even your lawsuit."   
You've got your own, he thinks, but he doesn't say it.

"I…" Wardo shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. Mark. _Mark!_ " He's touching his face again, his cheek, his neck; gentler and more careful than Tyler or anybody else ever could. 

“It's not really my business, but should you…I don’t know, should you even _care_ about that?” Tyler eventually asks, because really. What the hell is wrong with these people? “You’re suing him”, he reminds him.

“I _know_ ”, Eduardo hisses. “I know that.” 

Tyler groans, because this whole thing starts to grate on his nerves. He _so_ doesn’t care about Mark’s and Eduardo’s personal drama, okay? He doesn’t.   
Mark is obviously unable to survive on his own? Pity, then maybe he should’ve considered this _before_ he screwed his best friend out of the company. Eduardo can’t stand not to take care of him? Tough! Then maybe he should’ve considered this _before_ he sued him for 600 million dollars. It’s not _that_ complicated for heaven’s sake.   
“Whatever. Look, I saw the brunette out there; she’s one of Zuckerberg’s lawyers, I think. She seems like a decent person. Let’s just get her, tell her to fetch an ambulance and get out of here, okay?”

“Yes”, Eduardo says. And then: “No.”   
Somehow Mark’s head has ended up in his lap and the whole things looks so intimate and familiar that Tyler can't help but feeling it's not the first time something like this happened. Eduardo’s hand rests on Mark’s chest as if he's making sure his heart is still beating.   
_What_ heart, Tyler thinks.

“Pardon me?” he asks. 

“I’m not…I'm not leaving him. Not like this.” 

Tyler sighs. “Don't be a drama queen. He’s not dying. He’s breathing just fine. This whole thing really doesn’t have to be so complicated.” 

Eduardo laughs and it’s probably the unhappiest sound Tyler ever heard in his life.   
“You have no idea”, he whispers, more to himself than to Tyler. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

And maybe Tyler really has no idea, but you know what? He is glad he hasn’t. Because whatever this is, it’s the most fucked-up thing he has ever witnessed. What the hell is _wrong_ with these people? Can’t they even sue each other like normal people? Can’t they even hate each other like normal people?   
“I just don’t think it’s good for either of our lawsuits if we get involved in this”, he eventually says, trying to appeal to reason. 

“I _don’t_ care!” Eduardo snaps. 

“Do you actually remember that we're talking about millions of dollars here?”

“Millions of…” Eduardo’s voice falters and breaks and he shakes his head. “Do you honestly think I care about any of that money?” 

“I’m only trying to help you. We’re kind of in the same boat here.” 

Eduardo’s head jerks up.   
“Don’t you _dare_ ”, he says and one of his fists is clenched so tightly into Mark’s shirt that his knuckles turn white. “You think this is what this is about for me? Winning or losing a stupid lawsuit? About _money_?! We’re not in the same boat, you and I. We’re not even in the same _ocean!_ ”

Tyler opens his mouth to reply, but then he decides against it. Because there’s really nothing he can say to that.   
He doesn’t know the first thing about Eduardo Saverin and Mark Zuckerberg and their relationship, but _that_ he knows: Wherever they are and in whichever ocean they’re about to drown, they’re on their own and they’re alone, and there’s going to be no rescue team and no life jackets to save either of them. 

It's sad and fucked-up and he wonders if it would feel the same if it were him and Cameron suing each other. Even thinking about it feels wrong, twisted, because that's just not how things are supposed to be, not ever. 

“Great”, he replies flatly.   
He wants to tell Eduardo, _fine, do whatever you want, but I’m so going to be out of here, thank you very much, because there are some cannelloni with my name on it waiting for me_ , but of course Mark chooses this exact moment to stir.   
Mark fucking Zuckerberg. Master of bad timing. 

It’s only the faintest of movements, but Eduardo’s whole attention has shifted and is once more solely focused on the still figure in front of him. Even Tyler bends forward a little. 

“Mark?” Eduardo asks, sounding anxious and relieved at the same time. 

Mark’s eyelashes flutter and he makes a soft, unhappy noise.   
“That’s it, Mark” Eduardo encourages him gently. 

Mark blinks slowly. “…Wardo?” 

Tyler starts to feel like the hero in a cheap soap opera.   
Except it is shockingly obvious that he’s not the hero. He seems to be reduced to be the random (but outrageously good-looking) sidekick, which is kind of a low blow to his ego. 

"You're okay", Eduardo tells Mark, which is obviously a lie and his voice is trembling while he says it. "You'll be fine. I've got you."

Mark looks dazed and pretty much out of it and Tyler is sure that he's not processing where he is and what's going on around him, but he does seem to realize that Eduardo's here. The corner of his mouth twitch a little as if he's about to smile. It's an expression Tyler has never before seen on him, something soft and open and trusting.

"It's okay, Mark", Eduardo says again.   
Mark nods and his eyes start to slide shut again, but he turns to Eduardo like a flower would lean toward the sun. Even pale and barely conscious he looks almost content now. 

Gently Eduardo pushes a stray lock out of Mark's face. Tyler can see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. 

"Okay", he says eventually. "Go and get Marylin now. Please", he adds like an afterthought. 

Marylin. It takes Tyler a second to realizes whom he means. He isn't great with names, but of course Eduardo knows the first name of the assistant of Mark's lawyer. _Of course_ he does. 

He does as he's told, partly because it's the right thing to do (and what he said all along) and partly because he really needs to get out of that room.   
All the emotional drama might be contagious. 

It takes him about five minutes to locate her (down at the street, about to hail a taxi) and even less time to convince her to come back with him. Just as he has assumed, she's concerned but useful, already thinking about ways to get Mark back to his hotel room, before they even reach the room. 

"Oh god", she sighs and rushes forward. She stops abruptly when she sees Eduardo. "Wait. What are _you_ …?"

"Nothing. I'll be gone in a moment." Eduardo says quickly and licks his lips. Mark's head is still in his lap, his are eyes closed, but somehow he looks more peaceful than he did before. 

Marylin frowns and she looks between Tyler, Eduardo and Mark back and forth. "Guys. What happened here?"

"Probably dehydration and not enough sleep", Tyler says, because he's pretty sure Eduardo's explanation is much more long winded and a lot more dramatic. "And nobody _did_ anything to him." 

"Rrright." Marylin doesn't sound convinced. 

"He'll be fine", Eduardo says softly. "He's always fine. Just…please, get him to his hotel room. And make sure he drinks something. He's probably not going to eat anything, but you could try milkshakes or …" He stops mid-sentence and laughs. It's a short, bitter sound. "Sorry. I don't know what I'm saying." 

Marylin looks at him with dawning comprehension.   
"Okay", she says gently. "I'll take care of it. I'll get him home." She's a decent person, just like Tyler suspected. 

Eduardo nods shakily. "I…should go." But he makes no move to let go of Mark. 

"Of course. That's fine. You should probably eat something, too." Marylin smiles at him, a little sadly, before she turns around to Tyler. "Hey, you look like a big, strong guy", she says. "Maybe you could help me get him to a taxi."

"I'm suing him", Tyler feels inclined to point out, because somehow he seems to be the only one who still remembers that part. 

Marylin raises an eyebrow. "How about we just don't tell anybody? That fine with you?"

Tyler rolls his eyes "Whatever." 

Eduardo throws him a look as if he tries to gauge if Tyler is going to hurt Mark.   
Yeah right. As if Tyler is going to see any of that money if he just dumps Mark's body somewhere. He might be angry, he's _not_ stupid.   
Apparently Eduardo comes to the same conclusion, because he nods. "That would be good. Thanks. No hospital, okay? He would hate that. But maybe a doctor could…?" He pauses again, obviously beating himself up for every word he can't prevent from spilling out. 

Marylin nods. "I think, I can arrange that." 

"Good." Eduardo's still clinging to Mark's shirt, obviously unable or unwilling to let go. 

It's pathetic, really. Tyler knows that. It's pathetic and stupid and useless and so melodramatic, he doesn't even have the words to describe it. It's like a stupid Hollywood movie.   
But somehow, deep down, he can't help imagine how it would feel if he were Eduardo and Mark were Cameron (and seriously, Cam can be an asshole, too, maybe not Mark Zuckerberg-levels of asshole-ish, but still).   
He tries to imagine a moment where something's wrong with Cameron, but he weren't allowed to care for his brother anymore, because…of reasons. Like a lawsuit. Hurt feelings. Tons of money. Or for some other reasons, he can't even imagine having.   
It's part of him to care for Cameron; it's so intrinsically tied to his whole being that he doesn't even know who he would be without that part. 

Maybe Eduardo doesn't know who to be anymore without that part of himself either. 

Tyler kneels down and slowly starts to loosen Eduardo's fingers from Mark's shirt.   
"I've got this", he says, more roughly than intended. 

Eduardo nods and his hands fall limply at his side. His eyes are glued to Mark's face.   
"Don't…" He looks up to Tyler. "Don't tell him, I've been here."

"But…"

"Don't."

"I…fine." 

"Good." Eduardo stands up quickly, as if it hurts less this way, like ripping off a band-aid. He stares at Mark one last time, before he turns around. 

Tyler watches him leave. He shares a look with Marylin and clears his throat. "Well…that was fun." 

She sighs wearily. "Can I ask you to be quiet, Mr. Winklevoss?" 

"Tyler is fine", he offers. 

"You know, it's not that easy." 

"Yeah. I got _that_."   
Obviously nothing is ever that easy. He bends forward and grabs Mark's shoulder. 

Mark frowns when Tyler starts to shake him, and blinks sleepily. "What…?"

"Listen Zuckerberg, we're playing princess", Tyler says. "You're it. I get to be the knight who carries you home. Lucky me."

Mark looks around slowly. He looks dazed and confused, strangely vulnerable. "Where…?"  
It sounds small and questioning. Heartbreaking. 

"No talking. That's a ground rule." Tyler helps him on his feet. 

"Mark." That's Marylin. "You passed out. Mr. Winklevoss and I are going to take you back to your hotel room now. And then we talk about the ' _food is not optional_ '-rule again."

Mark blinks, once, twice. He stumbles and only Tyler's hands prevent him from falling. His movements are slow and sluggish and he still looks as if he's searching for something. _Somebody._   
Eventually he exhales, slowly, and hangs his head.   
"…whatever."

He's not going to ask again. Tyler's sure of it.   
Maybe he's going to wonder…but he's never going to know for sure.   
And somehow that's the worst thing of all. 

He helps Marylin to hail a cab and to smuggle Mark into his hotel room without anybody noticing. Mark is barely conscious through it all. Marylin says thanks and goodbye and Mark doesn't say anything at all. 

When Tyler's back outside, he feels like suffocating and his cell tells him he has seven missed calls.   
Without looking at the number he calls his brother.   
"Hey", he breathes. 

"Where the hell are you? Did you buy a new cell in China or something? Div and I ate your damn cannelloni", Cameron tell him. When Tyler doesn't answer he asks: "Ty?"

"Yeah, I…I'm not really hungry anymore. Could you come and get me?"

"Sure." Cameron sounds worried now. "What happened? Are you all right?" 

Is he all right?   
Somewhat randomly he thinks of Eduardo's hand spread across Mark's chest. 

_'You think this is what this is about for me? Winning or losing a stupid lawsuit? About money?! We’re not in the same boat, you and I. We’re not even in the same ocean! '_

And he thinks of the look on Mark's face whenever he turned his head as if he'd expected to find somebody next to him. Somebody who's not Tyler. 

Is he all right?   
Tyler snorts and closes his eyes. He's all right. It's everybody else and the goddamn world that isn't. "It's a long story."

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been interested in the little moments between Mark and Eduardo during the depositions where you could see they didn't just stop being friends (like when Eduardo actually testifies _in favor_ of Mark during the Winklevii-depositions or when Mark tries to prevent his lawyer from digging up dirt about Eduardo). Because it's not that easy, you know? To stop being friends. And this is what makes it all so sad, because they don't even hate each other, not even now.   
>  And now I totally need to stop talking before _**I**_ start to emote all over the place. ;)


End file.
